


Hiccup

by gosjija



Category: Sherlock (TV), Sherlock Holmes & Related Fandoms
Genre: Holidays, M/M, Sherlock is dancing, Summer, Unrequited Love
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-06-28
Updated: 2015-06-28
Packaged: 2018-04-06 16:23:08
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,249
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4228701
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/gosjija/pseuds/gosjija
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Everything started from a song I’m a Man by Black Strobe. That rhythm follows me from a very long time and my wicked imagination can’t delete vision of Sherly – boy’s sexy dance to that. Sorry for not being sorry. This ff is a result of it. It meaned to be crack but It developed to be something… nostalgic I think? Whatever, check it themselves.<br/>This is the music I listened while writing this. It’s really advised to listen them because scenes are more... colorfull .</p><p>Bon Iver – Flume (Kulkid Remix)<br/>Black Strobe – I’m a Man<br/>Beyonce - Haunted</p>
            </blockquote>





	Hiccup

-Czk… Czk!  
-Sherlock…  
-Mmm?  
-Sherlock, You have a hiccup?  
-Exccelent deducccsstion Johnnn! Essxxccelent!  
-Oh god… Should have known that you don’t know how to drink! – John murmured with resignation hiding behind his hands.  
-Whhhat’ss you talk? Jaaawn … Czk! Jawwn… Jawnn… Mmmm… – last words Sherlock murmured with his face on the ground.

Luckily ground means stones and not a sand like on a majority of beaches around the World. Last case (serial killer, John!) lead them to Black Sea, Crimea to be exact, where beaches are made from little stones. After few days sulk from Sherlock’s part (why you not packed my coat?), one week of running on streets of Sevastopol, more than enough hours of lying on a couch (I thinking, John! Where is my tea?) and clues hidden on in frankly embarrassing place on a Lenin figure, case is solved, killer in custody and to department lasted three days. After collecting everything possibly interesting for experiments (They would not pass us on a plane with that! Stop moaning, John! Mycroft will deal with everything. Now, come. You must to climb on that cliff. You can bloody climb by yourself! John! Do you have any idea what is the cost of my shoes? One more word and they will cost you your life!) and there wasn’t many things to do. Well... not many thing which John would agree to do (No, we won’t be scuba diving on ship’s cemetery, thank you very much.) Doctor suggested to spend one last night on a beach. Because they never have drink together he found some alcohol. Sherlock tossed can of beer with disgust and opened bottle of local wine. Neither of them bothered with glass. Honestly, John was a little bemused that Sherlock didn’t protest as a posh one. Maybe he knew him less then he was thinking. The thing that never occurred to his mind was that Sherlock was rather easily [inheabirated].  
Meanwhile Sherlock raised, wobbled a little, blinked and shoved grin with power of thousands volts. Ok. That smile is really creepy. Cheshire cat can be damned.

-We are going dancing!  
-What? No!

But detective wasn’t waiting for a response. He started running in a city way, not at all bothered to look after himself. John haven’t any option but run after him. Again.  
Crazy Man stopped before the club which looked like remembering better days. There was a small crowd before it includes people who looked younger than them. 20 years at least. John had time to spotted that before he collided with Sherlock’s back.

-We are going in!

Few words in Russian (of course he know Russian. And possibly 50 more languages. Damn his genius brain. Christ, even completely drunk...) and they were in. John looked around and spotted huge [monitor], Russian letters on it, and a young, moved boy who tried to get from himself some noise which one couldn’t name singing. Karaoke night… seriously…

-Sherlock? Sherlock! What the hell is this supposed to mean? – John angrily turned back demanding an answer but all his thoughts combed in a incoherent ball and in one second fell down to settle in a indescribable place between his legs. Sherlock got off his jacket and shirt and was in his vest. Skin of his biceps was glowing from sweat and was beautifully emphasized his movements because the fucker was actually slickening his dampened with sweat hair with his large hand. For that observation John has maybe two second because detective squirmed past him walking in the scene direction. John sat heavily on a nearest chair. There was no sense to walk after Sherlock who was already lost in a crowd. John just started silently to curse himself for the idea of getting drunk his flatmate when from speakers he heard English. The voice of famous detective. John moaned angrily. That can’t end well. Have Sherlock forgot about his englishman honour? Shut up everybody! I want to be heard! Shut up, idiots!  
With kind of miracle crowd thinned and John caught vision of Sherlock on a scene. From a speakers flowed first accords of guitar. Sherlock started singing. He was doing rather well. His baritone was a bit hoarse after the wine and crazy running among city’s streets, and it was mixed well with sharp music. Everything was well until Sherlock rasped with his eyes pinned to John „Now, I’m a Man. And I’m turn you on. You know, baby… We can have a lot of fun…”. He was holding standing microphone with both of his hands and his hips started to rhythmically moved to the left and to the right. Ok. John was rather sure that in way to this sodding club he died and this is his twisted afterlife because Sherlock jumped off the scene and with Mick Jagger’s way was heading to John who at time looked like a deer caught in a car lights. Detective stopped before his chair to ends chorus. Those fucking hips still hypnotically beated rhythm. Left-right, left-right. Detective’s hand clenched on his throat and started slow but exciting way down. Suddenly, without warning he sat on John’s lap and John smelled sweat and perfume. Sherlock bended and purred lyrics of song straight into doctor’s ear „the way I made a love to them, they can’t resist” straight to John’s ear. Such sudden as he approached he hopped off John’s lap and stepped again on a scene showing his swaying hips and fine ass in jeans. God, does he really need to wear so tight jeans? Detective ends his show, throw microphone away and vanished from John’s eyes. There was new music from speakers but shocked John doesn’t acknowledged it. What the hell was that? His asexual flatmate found out his inner rock star with striptease background? What now? John suddenly felt that he need air. Too much. Too much of everything. He elbowed the crowd and got few funny looks. One man even patted his back.

Outside was decidedly less people. John leaned on a wall and get deep breath and shut his eyes. Then, he saw Sherlock who was standing few metres away. Men catches their eyes. Detective throw his cigarette and got to John. In a second his hands was in shorter man hair and he begin brutal, desperate kiss. Until John was a chance to move he ends, joined their foreheads and shut his eyes.

 _-John..._  
-Sher…  
-John… I know that you are not feeling the same. I was hiding this for a months and I can’t... I can’t any longer. I can’t. Please, give me that one memory. When we get back to London you can leave. I will understand. But now, give me that one moment. Please. Just...  
For a while John doesn’t know what to say. That night was the one big shock for a poor Watson.  
-Sherlock, no. No... Sherlock, look at me.

Detective’s eyes was full of tension and sadness. John had never see him that open. That… vulnerable. He reached and get his hand on this man’s cheek. Sherlock exhaled and looked down. He looks resigned. Loosed. Ashamed. Big, famous Sherlock Holmes, world’s only consulting detective wined by sentiment.  
-Sherlock. – there was a fondness and uncertain in John’s voice – I… you shocked me. I… Ufff... I don’t know what to say. I never thought that you could have... feelings for me. I don’t… don’t know what to do. I need time to think. But I won’t leave. I don’t go anywhere. No without you.


End file.
